Goodbye, Abby Series: Broken Principles
by AnonymousNCISFan
Summary: NEW SERIES! Saying goodbye to Abby Sciuto: This is the first in a series of short stories about how Abby might possibly leave. The focus is mostly Gibbs & Abby, but the rest of the team is involved too. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact. Angst ahead!
1. Chapter 1-An Alarming Situation

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: NEW SERIES! The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 1: An Alarming Situation**

 **NCIS Headquarters**

 **Autopsy**

Dr. Jimmy Palmer hummed to himself as he finished sewing up the body of Lieutenant Thomas Blake. The bags under Palmer's eyes revealed the lack of sleep that was taking its toll on both him and his wife Breena this week.

"What do ya got, doc?" Gibbs asked as he strode into the room, giving Palmer a side-ways glance when he didn't respond. Gibbs recognized the tune he was humming and noticed his drawn features. "Palmer!" he said loudly, making the young medical examiner jump.

"Agent Gibbs!" Palmer replied, startled. "I, uh, I was just finishing up on Lieutenant Blake here."

Gibbs nodded, studying Palmer's face carefully, giving him a look of concern. "Everything OK?"

"Um, yea, uh, well, it's just…Victoria. She's been sick the past few nights," he began to explain. "Took her to the doctor to make sure it wasn't anything serious – just the flu. And I know, I know she's gotta ride it out, and we're doing everything we can, I mean _everything_ , to try and ease this but…but seeing her like that…I just feel so, so-"

"Helpless?" Gibbs offered, and Palmer knew he was speaking from experience. No doubt Gibbs had his own share of late nights up sick with his daughter Kelly.

"Exactly," Palmer replied, relieved someone else understood. "Last night she woke up crying because her nose and throat hurt so bad. All I could think was to take her in my arms and sing that song I was humming before when you walked in. Seems to be the only thing that helps."

"Good choice," Gibbs smiled. "Be grateful somethin' so simple works right now. Won't be so easy when she gets older." Palmer looked up at Gibbs. "Enjoy these moments, Jim. May seem impossible now, but they're the moments you're gonna treasure later on … problems get bigger, harder to solve."

Nodding, Palmer wondered if Gibbs was thinking of Kelly or someone else. "Thanks, Gibbs," he offered, before turning back to the body. "As for Lieutenant Blake, it seems his problems died with him."

"What kind of problems?"

"Well," Jimmy began "his liver was riddled with scar tissue – probably cirrohosis from excessive alcohol consumption."

Gibbs nodded grimly, wondering how his own liver was doing these days. Between his drinking over the years and the recent hand tremors, Gibbs worried his own time might up sooner rather than later. It was a big part of the reason he had stopped going down to Abby's lab. She was too attached, and his return from Paraguay proved it, when she'd clung to him and cried herself to sleep in his arms the first night she saw him. He had to prepare Abby, get her used to him not being around. These were the bigger problems, the ones he didn't have answers for, the ones a song couldn't make go away.

"Agent Gibbs?" Jimmy called, noticing his distant eyes. Shaken from his thoughts, Gibbs looked up quickly.

"Yea, go ahead."

"I was just saying that I was able to retrieve the bullet and get it to Abby. And there was something else," Palmer added, moving back to the body. "See this?" he continued, turning the victim's head to the side.

"Looks like some kinda imprint," Gibbs remarked.

"I took photo and sent it to Abby. She thinks it might be from a ring."

"Possible. Let me know when she gets something."

"Wouldn't it be easier if you just went-" Palmer stopped speaking as Gibbs gave him a look. He'd been caught in the middle of this strange development between the pair since Gibbs returned from Paraguay. Both Gibbs and Abby had been using Palmer as a "middle man" of sorts in communicating evidence. The first few times he didn't think much of it, but when Abby asked him to put Gibbs on via video conference when he finished in autopsy, Palmer knew something wasn't right.

There was a part of him – a big part – that feared Gibbs, leading the young doctor to keep his thoughts to himself. But lately Abby had seemed more sullen, easily agitated, especially a few weeks ago when he'd helped her remove a splinter. His friend was obviously hurting and he had a strong hunch it might have something to do with Gibbs. With Dr. Mallard gone for the time being, Palmer was beginning to realize he might have to be the one to call Gibbs out if no one else would.

"Is there a problem?" Gibbs snapped, walking toward him.

"You tell me," Palmer replied in a strong voice, not sure if it was bravery or the simple fact that he was just so tired he didn't care anymore about the consequences. Being stared down by Gibbs was scary but seeing his little girl sick was much more terrifying.

Just as Gibbs opened his mouth to reply, a loud sound pierced the silence. Both men looked up to see the flashing lights – the fire alarm had gone off.

"Maybe a drill?" Palmer offered. But Gibbs seemed more curious, less satisfied to simply follow protocol. Palmer knew Gibbs would rather find the problem and try to help than exit the building.

"Can you tell where the alarm was pulled?" Gibbs asked, his gut suddenly churning.

"Yea, yea I think so," Palmer replied, heading to his computer. "According to this…" he swallowed, his brows furrowing as he turned to face Gibbs. "It's coming from Abby's lab."

Gibbs eyes widened and he leaned into the computer screen. "Patch in a-"

"Already on it," Palmer replied quickly, pressing the button to video conference. What they saw caused Gibbs to bolt out of autopsy as Palmer quickly dialed McGee's number.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	2. Chapter 2-Breaking Protocol

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 2: Breaking Protocol**

 **NCIS Headquarters**

The fire alarm continued to blare through the building as Gibbs rushed up the stairs from autopsy. Reaching for his gun, Gibbs realized it was still locked in his desk. He pulled the knife from his belt as he finally reached the top of the staircase, and cracked open the door to the hallway. Spotting two agents who were moving to exit the building, Gibbs entered the hallway and grabbed one, gesturing to the other.

"Hey," he whispered. "We have an intruder in the lab. Either of you armed?"

They both shook their heads, indicating their lack of weapons.

"OK, you," Gibbs said, pointing to the younger agent, "get upstairs, get to the director. Get a team down here. We may have a hostage situation."

"On it," the agent replied. The second agent looked to Gibbs.

"What's your name?" Gibbs asked.

"Agent Finnley, sir."

"OK, Finnley, I need you to clear the hallway and keep everyone out."

Before Finnley could respond, two shots rang out suddenly. Both men dove for cover.

"Sounds like it came from inside the lab, sir," Finnley noted.

"I'm heading in," Gibbs said, brandishing his knife.

"But sir, that's not protocol. You're not armed and we need to wait-"

Before Finnley could finish, Gibbs was at the door. "Go," he whispered harshly.

Finnley gave a concerned look but headed down the hallway. Gibbs leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath before trying the lab door. It was locked. He put his ear up to it, listening for voices or any sign of the intruder. All he heard was silence.

Closing his eyes, his gut churning, Gibbs swallowed his fear and channeled it, using the adrenaline for strength and focus, like he always did. Yet one thing was different. This was Abby. While he typically wasn't a praying man, Gibbs offered up a silent plea to whatever or whoever might be listening – whoever Abby believed in - before moving into action.

"This is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS," he shouted, announcing his presence. "I'm comin' in!" Gibbs knew it was risky, but Abby was in there; he needed to get inside. Using his knife, Gibbs pried the door open by the latch and dashed in, ducking behind the inside of the door, using it as a shield in case the gunman decided to fire. He glanced to the left, seeing shattered test tubes and evidence scattered on the floor. More concerning, he noticed a blood trail leading to the inner office.

"Abby!" he called, breathing hard, a part of him not wanting to look. But he had to – and it wasn't just because it was his job. Gibbs had promised to keep Abby safe, to protect her. It was why he had been distancing himself from her these past several months – to protect her from himself - from his demons, from his enemies, from the pain of losing him, which was inevitable to him. It never crossed his mind that she might-

"Ahhh!" a low voice yelled as the assailant slammed the door into Gibbs, knocking the knife out of his hand. The man looked to be in his late twenties, muscular build and for some reason incredibly unhinged. He punched Gibbs in the jaw, then the ribs. Ignoring the searing pain, Gibbs returned with a strong left hook, then gripped the assailant's right arm as he kicked his legs out from under him, dislocating the man's shoulder.

As his attacker writhed on the ground in pain, Gibbs stumbled toward the knife, which had slid through the pool of blood towards Abby's desk.

"Abby!" he called again, wincing in pain as he gripped his ribs. Just as he was about to reach for the knife, he felt a tug on his left leg, pulling at his reconstructed knee. Gibbs shouted in pain and fell to the floor. Standing up and holding his bad shoulder, the attacker kicked Gibbs in the stomach once, twice, slowing him down before picking up the knife himself. Gibbs was gasping, still desperately looking for Abby while fighting for his life.

As the assailant straddled him, raising the knife in his left hand to stab him, Gibbs gripped his left arm and pushed back. He wondered where the gun went, and why the attacker wasn't using it. As he struggled against the younger man, Gibbs noticed a ring on his left index finger and recognized the pattern – the same one that Palmer found on the victim's cheek. Looking at him for the first time, Gibbs also recognized the mystery man's face.

"You're Lieutenant Blake's son," Gibbs choked out, knowing he was losing the physical battle. He just needed to buy time. And he needed to find Abby.

"I was," he replied in a low voice.

"Dennis, it's Dennis, right? Dennis, tell me, where is she?" Gibbs asked breathlessly, gritting his teeth.

"Who? Your lab rat? She's with my father now," he half-laughed.

Gibbs' eyes darkened at his words, anger boiling to the surface. "You…killed her?" he asked in a deep, threatening tone.

"Don't worry, you'll be joining her soon," the young man said menacingly, pushing harder against his grip.

In that moment, Gibbs was torn between the desire to join Abby - and every other loved one who'd died long before their time - and wanting to end her murderer. His heart lurched, images of Abby flashing before his eyes. Her smile. Her warm embrace. Her crying on his shoulder. Her laughter. The look of devastation in her eyes when he told her to stay out of his life.

"Argh!" Gibbs yelled, feeling the rush of adrenaline that gave him a strength he didn't know he still had in him. He pushed the young man off him, gripping Abby's desk and standing up. The attacker stood up and swiped at Gibbs once, twice, three times with the knife. Gibbs grabbed him by the shirt and spun him around, slamming him into the wall right next to Abby's bulletin board. But the young man held onto the knife and pushed back, knocking Gibbs to the ground yet again.

Weakened and tired from the fight, Gibbs knew this was it. He had failed. As he watched the killer lunge toward him – his own knife poised to end him – Gibbs whispered what he thought might be his last words.

"Sorry, Abbs."

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. The young assailant jerked backward, falling lifelessly to the ground, his blood splattered against the wall. Gibbs winced and looked to his right to see McGee in the doorway, gun drawn.

"Good work, Tim," Gibbs rasped, swallowing as he tried to push back the pain that rushed upon him.

"Wasn't me, boss," McGee said, eyes wide as he ran into the lab, holstering his gun.

Gibbs looked to his left to see Abby sitting on the floor in front of ballistics, bloody and beaten, but alive, holding a gun in her hand. In that instant, Gibbs realized she'd been the one to fire the fatal shot. Guilt and fear tore at him, hating that she'd done that, and worse, she'd done it for him.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	3. Chapter 3-Give Me a Sign

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 3: Give Me a Sign**

 **NCIS Headquarters**

 **Forensics Lab**

Abby's breathing was heavy as she made eye contact with Gibbs, still sitting on the floor near ballistics, weapon in hand. She was sweating as blood seeped through her lab coat.

"Abbs," Gibbs gasped, tears involuntarily stinging his eyes. He attempted to stand but the pain from the fight caught up to him. McGee was just getting to the body of the assailant who attacked them both. Gibbs limped desperately toward Abby as she released her grip on the gun. Letting it slide to the floor, she pushed it away. She hated guns, she hated violence, and she just went against one of her most sacred principles – she took a life.

"Abby," Gibbs said again, more urgently, swallowing hard at the sight of her. He leaned down next to her, his eyes wide as he tried to see from where she was bleeding. "God Abbs, where, where does it hurt?"

She met his gaze with her eyes half-open and lifted her shirt half-way, revealing a gunshot wound to the abdomen. Gibbs immediately put pressure on it with his right hand, his left cupping her face.

"Broke…broke…" Abby tried to speak but was having trouble.

"Shhh, don't talk," Gibbs said softly. "It's gonna be OK."

Lifting her right hand, she began signing instead. Gibbs' face fell at her words.

"I know ya, did, Abbs. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to do that."

She signed to him again.

"Ah, Abbs," he rasped, pulling her close and kissing her on the cheek.

"Abby!" McGee called, racing over to them. "You got him, Abby. He's dead, he can't hurt you anymore … now hang in there, the paramedics are on the way."

Abby smiled at McGee, squeezing his hand. McGee ducked his head as tears stung his eyes.

"Gibbs!" Bishop called as she and Torres entered the lab with four security guards, guns drawn.

McGee quickly wiped a hand over his face and moved away reluctantly, heading toward them, gesturing for them to stand down. As he began to quickly fill them in on what was happening, Abby placed her hand on Gibbs' cheek, getting his attention.

"Yea?" he swallowed, unable to stop the tear that escaped.

She signed again and it broke his heart.

"I never stopped," he rasped, his voice cracking. He felt her blood seeping through his fingers and pressed on her wound with both hands. "Just stay with me, OK? I need you to stay with me."

Signing more slowly, she closed her eyes in pain.

"Don't you say that," Gibbs replied, voice thick with emotion.

Bishop and Torres began to make their way toward Abby, barely believing their eyes, when McGee got in front of them.

"Give 'em a minute," he said, gesturing to Gibbs. They noticed Abby signing and Gibbs looking more vulnerable than they had ever seen. Taking a step back, Bishop wiped her eyes as Torres looked away.

"I'm gonna check on the paramedics," Torres said quickly, ducking out of the lab.

"Tim, maybe we can help-"

"Gibbs has it, Ellie. The paramedics will be here soon. There's nothing else we can do."

Ellie gripped McGee's shoulder as they watched Gibbs and Abby from a distance.

Abby was struggling for air, her face growing paler as she signed again. Gibbs closed his eyes, fighting back tears. How could she be worried about _him_ right now?

"I'll live … we're _both_ gonna live," he whispered, trying to smile, to reassure her.

She placed her hand on his chest and he looked down.

"Abbs," he rasped, seeing her fingers form a sign he knew all too well. "I … I know that. I know. And I was wrong. I shouldn't have…Abbs, I'm so-"

Abby brought a finger to his lips, silencing him. It reminded him of how he'd done the same to her when he left for Mexico all those years ago. His head was spinning; he was trying to apply more pressure to her wound, to keep her from bleeding out, when all he wanted to do was hold her.

"It's OK," she gasped, and the hollowness in her voice terrified him. Abby tugged on his shirt and he leaned in close. She whispered something that caused Gibbs to shudder, a sob escaping his lips. Turning her head, Abby placed a tender kiss on his cheek before letting out a long breath. Gibbs felt the strength leave her body as she collapsed back against the doorframe.

"No…" Gibbs rasped, unconsciously holding his own breath, not wanting to take another until she did.

McGee and Bishop knew instantly that something was wrong and ran towards them. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as McGee took over for Gibbs, placing pressure on the wound. Bishop checked for a pulse and began CPR. Suddenly, several paramedics were on the scene and Gibbs was pushed farther and farther away from her.

"Sir, sir? Can you hear me?" One of the paramedics was kneeling beside Gibbs, checking his pulse.

"You have to save her," Gibbs whispered, not reacting to any of the emergency worker's questions or prodding.

"Boss," McGee called, leaning down and putting a hand on his shoulder. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"They have to save her," Gibbs repeated, his eyes fixed on the group of medical personnel surrounding Abby, his body trembling.

"He's going into shock," the paramedic said to McGee. "We need to move him."

"OK, boss, they're doing everything they can, but we need to go."

"Not leaving her, not ever again," Gibbs rasped.

"Boss…we'll see Abby at the hospital, OK? Bishop's staying with her until they get her stable and on an ambulance. We'll meet her there. But right now, we need to let them do what they do, and you need to be checked out. Boss, please…"

Gibbs looked up at his senior field agent, noting the desperation in his eyes. He wasn't the only one in pain right now, and he owed McGee.

"OK, OK," he sighed, trying to stand.

As McGee helped Gibbs out of the lab, both men gave one last look to the huddle surrounding Abby. They were transferring her to a gurney, an oxygen mask already adjusted on her face. The wound was bandaged but they were still applying pressure. Her pigtails had come undone. It was the last thing Gibbs noticed before losing consciousness.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**

 **Author's Note: What did Abby say to Gibbs when she was using sign language? The answer is in Gibbs' responses, but if you didn't catch it, it will be touched upon again in future chapters.**


	4. Chapter 4-Feeling Stuck

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 4: Feeling Stuck**

 **Georgetown University Hospital**

Gibbs awoke to the sharp pinging of medical equipment and the feel of sticky patches across his chest. Opening his eyes, he recognized the pitted ceiling and smell of antiseptic. He was in the hospital. Again. His last memory caused him to bolt upright in an attempt to free himself of the medical devices.

"Easy, easy, Gibbs," Agent Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane said gently, placing a hand on his arm. "They're just monitoring you to make sure your vitals are good."

"Where is she," Gibbs asked, breathing hard, the machines picking up his accelerated heartbeat. "Where's Abby?" His eyes were wide, swimming with fear and anger. Anger at what had happened, anger that he couldn't prevent it, anger that he was stuck in a hospital bed instead of where he really wanted – no, needed – to be – at Abby's side.

"She's in surgery," Sloane said slowly, gauging his reaction. Gibbs looked down, closing his eyes. With a shake of his head, he tried to gather his thoughts.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"I'd say about two hours," Sloane replied. "Are you OK? Do you want to talk about it?"

Gibbs sighed heavily, looking out the window next to his bed. He and Sloane had become somewhat close over the past few months, and he'd confided in her a number of times. But he felt too vulnerable now, on the verge of something he didn't want to face.

Sloane waited out his silence, finally breaking it. "Doctor said Abby's a fighter," she commented, trying to reassure him.

"Yea," Gibbs rasped, furrowing his brow and turning toward her. "So what the hell happened?"

"Well, you were there…"

"No, I mean _before_. How the hell did this guy get access to the building, get a gun inside and … and do this?"

Sloane pursed her lips, nodding. "McGee pulled the security and lab recordings. He was disguised as a delivery guy, had the whole get-up. Went straight for the lab. Our best guess is that he was trying to destroy evidence that would incriminate him in the murder of his father."

"What about the gun?" Gibbs asked, his voice hoarse.

"He didn't bring it with him. Abby was examining the weapon from the crime scene. She test-fired the gun, then left ballistics to compare the striations on the bullet to the one found in the victim."

Sloane hesitated, not sure if Gibbs was in the right frame of mind to hear the rest. But she could tell Gibbs was already piecing the events together in his mind.

"You're telling me Abby left a loaded gun in ballistics? Wouldn't happen," Gibbs said strongly.

"No, I'm not saying that," Sloane replied gently. "From what we could see, Blake came in the back way, saw the ballistics lab and ducked in."

Gibbs looked off into the distance, remembering the many times he'd done that, once to surprise Abby with a birthday present, another just to mess with her. But that was years ago …

"Bishop found the evidence box where the gun was secured," Sloane continued, interrupting his thoughts. "It was ripped open and tossed aside. He must've noticed it, seen his name…"

"Seemed way to wound up to put all that together," Gibbs commented.

"Oh, he was definitely on something," Sloane remarked. "We sent his blood work to metro's lab to see what they could find."

"Metro's involved?"

"Well, we couldn't get a replacement on such short notice, especially with the lab being a crime scene…"

Gibbs swallowed hard, biting his lip. Sloane noticed his sullen expression.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Gibbs said in a quiet tone, clearing his throat. "Where'd he get the bullets?"

"Broke into the drawers in the lab to find them. That's when Abby heard him."

Sloane was hesitant to continue, unsure if this was what Gibbs should be hearing at the moment. He was exhibiting signs of shock, possible PTSD. Sloane heard that Gibbs had a soft spot for Abby, that they were close, though during her time at NCIS headquarters she hadn't seen any signs of that. Not until she watched the video playback from the lab, which caught their interaction. She had to zoom in tight, and the video was grainy, but she could make out Gibbs' obvious distress – more than it should have been given his profession and experience. She could also make out Abby's sign language – something Sloane picked up after she'd been rescued from her imprisonment overseas. It was a beautiful language, she thought, and learning it had helped keep her mind occupied at a time when she wasn't ready to face her experience.

"I want to see the tape," Gibbs said, looking Sloane in the eye.

"Why don't we just take this one step at a time, get you OK'd by a doctor first?"

"You almost get blown to bits and refuse to go to the hospital; I get a few bumps and bruises and I'm stuck here in this god-forsaken bed?"

"Gibbs, you have a broken rib, your knee is swollen like a grapefruit, the history of your prior injuries is a mile long and, well…you look like hell."

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs crossed his arms, frowning. "Well, don't you say the sweetest things?"

"Gibbs I-"

"Just get me a damn doctor so I can get outta here!" he barked, immediately regretting his harsh tone.

"OK, OK," Sloane responded, holding up her hands.

"Jack," Gibbs called as she was about to exit the room. She turned back. "Thanks," he said simply, staring up at her apologetically.

Sloane nodded, giving him a small smile before leaving the room, and leaving Gibbs alone with his thoughts.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	5. Chapter 5 - A Friendly Face

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 5: A Friendly Face**

 **Georgetown University Hospital**

"Well, Agent Gibbs, I'm not sure if you're quite ready to leave us just yet, but I don't see any harm in you getting out of bed, as long as you're careful," said Dr. Thomas Newberry, responding to Gibbs request to, "get the hell out of here." Sloane was standing next to him, a concerned look on her face.

"Doc, I'm fine, really," Gibbs implored, wincing as he tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

"You let me be the judge of that," the doctor replied, helping Gibbs steady himself on the edge of the mattress. "So, where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Coffee run?" Sloane posed, smirking.

"Coffee sounds real good," Gibbs agreed, giving Sloane a small grin. Just as the physician was about to caution him on the effects of caffeine, another doctor entered the room – one Gibbs knew all too well.

"Agent Gibbs, you know we have to stop meeting like this."

"Dr. Cyril Taft," Gibbs said in an almost bright tone, his face softening at the sight of his old friend.

Shaking Gibbs' hand, Taft's gaze immediately went to his knee. "Now please tell me you didn't undo all those months of hard work we put into this thing."

"We?" Sloane asked. "How exactly do you two know each other?"

"Oh, a couple years ago Agent Gibbs here decided to get himself shot – twice – in Iraq, of all places. I happened to be the acting surgeon on the closest ship. The knee was the easy part, actually. It was the chest wound that took me 12 hours to deal with. Oh, and he _does_ have a heart, in case you were wondering. I know it might be hard to believe, but I've seen it first-hand – pulled about 22 pieces of shrapnel from around it. Now, about that knee, Gibbs…"

"A little ice and elevation should bring that swelling down," Dr. Newberry commented. "You did that replacement?" Taft nodded confidently. "Fine work, doctor."

"Why thank you, doctor," he smiled back. But Gibbs could tell Taft was hiding something behind his cheerful demeanor.

"So, you just came to make sure my knee was doin' OK, doc? Thought you were takin' a break from all this?"

"Well, I was, for awhile. Catherine and I decided to travel."

"How is your wife?"

"She's good. We're good, better than we've been in years. The time away was a welcomed breather, especially after my brief stint at trying to play detective during one of your cases."

"Yea, I remember."

"So anyway, we traveled, saw a good chunk of the world, and landed back here in Georgetown last month. I was getting a bit restless, so Catherine encouraged me to get back into the hospital's rotation."

"Well, I appreciate the visit, doc, but I'm about to get out of here." Dr. Newberry gave Gibbs a concerned look.

"Actually, Gibbs, I wasn't just here to see you. I'm looking for Special Agent Jack Sloane," Taft explained, confusion washing over his face as he looked around the room. "Though I don't think he's here."

Sloane smiled, extending her hand. "Special Agent Jacqueline Sloan, but all my friends call me Jack."

"Ah!" Taft replied, slightly embarrassed as he shook her hand. "Well, Jack – may I call you Jack?" She nodded, noticing his face grow more serious. "Can we step outside for a minute?" he asked. Sloane nodded as they began to make their way to the hall.

"Doc?" Gibbs called, concern in his voice. If he was here to see Sloane, Gibbs thought, that might mean he was here to update her on Abby's condition. Had he been the one performing her surgery? At least she was in good hands if that was the case. But if Taft wanted to speak to Sloane alone, Gibbs wagered that probably wasn't good news. He hated being kept in the dark about anything, but this… Frustrated, Gibbs tried to stand but his knee buckled. Dr. Newberry caught him just before he hit the floor.

"Why don't we give that knee a rest for a little while longer?" the doctor posed, helping him back onto the bed. But Gibbs wasn't paying attention to him – he was focused on Taft and Sloane, who he could see through the doorway. They were in deep conversation, but were just outside of his earshot.

"Not sure how he's gonna take this," Taft said regretfully in a low voice, his face sullen. His demeanor had changed drastically. Taft had become a pro at putting up a good front, especially after his son died. "You know, he and Abby…well, have you known him long?"

"Not long," Sloane replied, "but we've been through some things. I'd like to think he considers me a friend. Though I'm not sure I should be the one telling him this."

"You're a psychologist – you can help him in ways most others can't," Taft offered.

"He trusts you, and you can explain what happened better than I could," she contested.

"Are we seriously gonna have to 'rock, paper, scissors' this?" Taft half-laughed, rubbing his blood-shot eyes, the joke a cover for the sadness he was feeling.

"We'll both go," Sloane agreed, her voice tightening. "I just wish Dr. Mallard was here instead of in New York. He's on his way, but won't be here for another few hours at least. Same with Abby's brothers."

"Yes, well, I think Gibbs is putting things together, so we'd better get back before he comes hopping out here on one leg," Taft sighed. Sloane nodded as they both made their way back into Gibbs' room.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	6. Chapter 6-My Sunshine

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 6: My Sunshine**

 **Author's Notes: OK, so this gets a bit sappy, but isn't that what fanfic is for? Besides, all these episodes are going by with no love or interaction or even acknowledgement of the Gibbs/Abby relationship, so I think we're entitled to some sap.** **Feedback is always appreciated!**

 **Georgetown University Hospital**

"He hasn't moved in over an hour," Sloane commented as NCIS Director Leon Vance came to stand beside her, looking through the glass into the room in ICU.

"Not surprised," Vance replied, his voice rough with emotion. "How bad is she?"

Sloane sighed, crossing her arms. "Dr. Taft said Abby lost about four pints of blood. Apparently, she's been on blood thinners for a heart condition, which didn't help."

"Heart condition?" Vance said in surprise, looking shocked. "Dr. Taft tell you that?"

"No … her brother Kyle told me over the phone, after I explained what happened. Said it was arrhythmia - irregular heartbeat. She didn't want anyone knowing."

"Gibbs must've known," Vance wondered aloud.

"He didn't," Sloane answered, a hint of sadness in her voice. "It was hard enough watching Dr. Taft break the news that she was in a coma. But Gibbs just couldn't understand why she'd lost so much blood. Kept blaming himself, saying he didn't apply enough pressure, that it was his fault. I couldn't let him think that."

"So you told him."

"You think I shouldn't have?"

"Didn't say that, Jack. Just sayin' … this is gonna be mighty hard on him. Hell, on all of us."

"You know, everyone keeps telling me how close they are, but I've got to be honest with you, Leon. If you'd asked me about their relationship even 12 hours ago, I would've said they were colleagues at best, more distant than anyone else on the team. But now … now he won't leave her side."

Sloane gestured to the room. Gibbs sat in a chair placed next to the bed where Abby lay, his back to the door. His left leg was propped up, ice packs wrapped around it to reduce the swelling. His blood-shot eyes darted from the heart monitor – which was keeping a steady beat at the moment – to the pale, ashen figure before him. His fingers were mindlessly tracing the patterns of the tattoos along her right arm, her left hooked up to an IV. She was receiving her second transfusion of blood.

"It's gonna break his heart if she dies," Vance rasped, trying to control his own emotions.

"Gonna break a lot of hearts," Sloane swallowed. In the brief time she'd gotten to know Abby, Sloane could see she had a big heart – bigger than most, despite her slight paranoia. They had a rocky start, as Abby was convinced at first that Sloane was sent to study her, to get inside her head. But after Sloane reassured her that wasn't the case, Abby had warmed to her considerably, even asking to grab a cup of coffee with her a few times. They'd chat about almost anything – Abby was a wellspring of knowledge and fascination. But being a psychologist, Sloane couldn't help but sense the underlying sadness in her.

"Dr. Mallard offered his services once he arrives, just to get a second opinion," Vance commented, shaking Sloane out of her thoughts.

"Of course," Sloane rasped, fixated on the scene before her. "What is she to him, Leon?"

"You read Gibbs' file. You know about his first wife, and his daughter."

Sloane gave him a look of understanding. "She's Kelly."

"I think she's the closest thing to a daughter he's had since Kelly died. I mean, the team has always been his family – I broke it up once with not very good results."

Surprised, Sloane shot him a look. "You did what?"

"Story for another time," Vance replied. "Anyway, he's always been close with his team, but there was something special about Abby. I think we all feel that way, but Gibbs … he made sure she felt appreciated, cared for even."

"Until recently?" Sloane posed.

"From where I sit, it's hard to know exactly what happened or when it started, but the whispers made their way all the up to my office shortly after he and McGee got back from Paraguay. Neither of them ever came to me, and I never looked further. Everything seemed to be running smoothly, despite some recent … changes. Painful changes for both of them, I know. Far as I was concerned, the job was getting done; no need to press them on it."

"I'm not trying to pin this on you, Leon," Sloane explained, "I just want to understand. The doctors say the next 24 hours are crucial, say it could go either way. And we haven't even breached the subject of possible complications from the surgery…"

"Dr. Taft is the finest in his field, brought Gibbs back from the grave from what I'm told, and I'm sure he did his best with Ms. Sciuto."

"' _Ms. Sciuto'?_ A little formal, Leon, don't you think?"

He chuckled. "Force of habit, I suppose. You know, Jack, she was there for me, when my wife died. There for my daughter, helping her with her math and science homework while I muddled through the motions of a grieving widower. And I know she's done that – and then some - for countless others. I'm not sure what the next day will bring, but I do know she has a lot of people in her corner, pulling for her."

Sloane nodded, fighting back tears. "Think I should check on Gibbs?"

"Nah, leave him be right now. Let's wait until Dr. Mallard gets here."

"What about McGee and the rest of the team?"

"I'll fill them in," Vance replied. "Right now they're finishing up the case. They'll probably be coming down here soon enough. Just stay close. Maybe give a call to Dr. Grace Confalone – she's the psychologist I told you about awhile back, and may be of some help."

"Dr. Taft already reached out," Sloane noted.

"Good…why don't you grab a coffee, or three," Vance said. "It's gonna be a long night." Sloane nodded as they both peered into the room one last time before leaving.

Inside, Gibbs could be heard quietly singing a familiar tune, the same tune Palmer had been humming earlier in the day. His voice was gravely and a bit off-key, but the sentiment was palpable.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear how much I-"

Gibbs voice caught on the word, a tear rolling down his cheek as he grasped Abby's hand. He swallowed hard and continued.

"How much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	7. Chapter 7-Choices & Priorities

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 7: Choices & Priorities**

 **NCIS Headquarters**

 **Squad Room**

It was nearly 10:00PM as a bleary-eyed McGee stumbled out of the elevator to his desk, coffee in hand. Sitting down, he gave a heavy sigh, looking around the dimly lit bullpen to see the empty chairs. He sent Bishop and Torres home hours earlier, knowing they'd been bouncing between the hospital and finishing up the paperwork on the Blake case. He was on his third day as team leader, yet it felt like an eternity. The ringing of his cell phone jarred him from his moment of silence.

"Hey Delilah," he rasped, his voice strained. "Yea, hon, I'll be home soon, I promise. Just tying up a few loose ends here…No, I haven't been up there today. Gibbs has been keeping watch, and her brothers…Last I heard there was still no change."

The elevator dinged and McGee looked up, his face filled with relief and sadness as he saw who was approaching him. "OK, honey, I gotta go. Love you. Give the twins a kiss from me. I'll be home soon."

Ending his conversation, McGee stood up.

"Hey, Probie," his old friend and colleague replied, a small grin doing little to hide his concern.

"Hey, Tony," McGee replied putting out his hand. Former Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo shook his head, pulling McGee in for a tight hug. McGee closed his eyes, swallowing.

"Congratulations," DiNozzo said, moving from the embrace to get a good look at him.

"What?" McGee said, perplexed and hovering on anger. If DiNozzo was being sarcastic, he had no patience for it right now.

"On your marriage, your kids, and of course your new apartment," DiNozzo smiled genuinely, patting him on the back. "Though it looks like I dodged a bullet with that last one, huh? The guy who owned the place before me was a serial killer? Really?"

"Yea," McGee laughed. "You really know how to pick 'em."

"Well, I told you there was a murder, Tim," he said, putting his hands up.

"I know, I know…hey, how's Tali doin'?"

"Good, she's with Senior. She's speaking full sentences now … think she may've tried to head-slap me the other day, but I can't be sure…"

"Tony…"

"Status update, McGee," DiNozzo said grimly, his mood shifting. He knew he was delaying the inevitable.

"Well, like I was just telling Delilah, there's no change. Abby's been unconscious for three days now. Her vitals are stable, but she's just not coming out of it."

DiNozzo sighed, leaning on his old desk. "What about Gibbs?" he asked, staring at his former boss's empty chair.

"I don't know," McGee said in a low voice. "He's been very…un-Gibbs."

"Well, not a big surprise there. Abby is … they've always been close."

McGee could hear the edge in DiNozzo's tone and it made him wonder.

"You talk to her at all lately?" McGee asked, his eyes narrowing. It felt like DiNozzo was hiding something.

"Just last week," Tony sighed.

"You know, I've been so busy with Delilah, and the twins, and work … I haven't had a chance to really catch up with her lately."

"Life does get in the way sometimes," DiNozzo replied, still staring at Gibbs' chair.

"Has she…I mean did she ever…"

"What, Probie?" DiNozzo asked sharply. "Just spit it out."

"She mention anything about work, about being unhappy?"

"Now why would you say that, Very Special Agent Timothy McGee?" McGee could tell by DiNozzo's sarcastic tone that the answer was yes. "C'mon, Tim," DiNozzo said, jabbing at him, "you're a very special agent now, you should sense these things. Abby's always been very sensitive. That's why I can't figure how the boss could do this…and how you could let him."

"Let him?" McGee replied defensively. "And what was I supposed to do? 'Sorry boss, why don't _you_ go down to Abby's lab and get the results?' Yea, that would've went over well."

"You and Gibbs went through hell together, Tim," DiNozzo rasped. "He probably respects you more than anyone in this bullpen right now. You had a chance."

"Oh, like you would've-"

"Damn right I would've," DiNozzo growled. "I would've tried. Not that he would've listened, but maybe, just maybe, he would've realized the mistake he was making."

"Think he's realizing it now," McGee said sadly, sitting down. DiNozzo glanced back at him.

"You don't know the half of it, Probie. The boss lives to beat himself up over things like this. Remember Kate, and Jenny…and Diane? This one beats them all, in spades."

"You know what happened?"

DiNozzo bit his lip, contemplating whether to say anything. The desperate look on McGee's face made him cave.

"She said they had a fight, not longer after you two got back," DiNozzo admitted. "That time, when you were … gone … Abby would call me every night, and every night I'd try to give her hope, hating that I was so far away, that I couldn't help. But I made my choice; and you and Gibbs made yours."

"Tony, I-"

"She was angry, Tim – angry that Gibbs basically committed suicide by jumping off that helicopter, angry that you followed him, both without a thought to who you left behind."

"Without a thought?!" McGee yelled, slamming his hands on the desk as he stood up. "If I hadn't gotten off that helicopter, Gibbs would be dead now. Sure, I could've been safe at home with my wife, but I'd never be able to live with myself, never be able to look my kids in the eye without knowing deep down their dad was a coward. Leaving a man behind - it wasn't how I was raised, it wasn't how Gibbs trained us. And you know damn well you would've done the same thing."

"Would I, Tim?" DiNozzo asked, arching an eyebrow. "Maybe before Tali … but now … I'd be damned if I'd stand in the way of Gibbs finally fulfilling his death wish."

"You don't mean that."

"I do, Tim," DiNozzo said firmly, looking McGee square in the eye. "He wants to play hero, without any thought of who might go down with him, who he might hurt, then who are we to stop him?"

"Is that you or Abby talking?" McGee wondered.

"Both," DiNozzo answered with a sad shrug, looking away. "We were both angry. And I'm glad things worked out, Tim, but you gotta be careful."

"I'm a federal agent, Tony," McGee replied strongly. "I know I have to put my life on the line. And I'm not the only one with family – plenty of agents have houses filled with children or loved ones they need to get back to. We do what we do to keep our families safe, to get the bad guys before they get us. You may not be willing to take those risks anymore, Tony, but I am."

"We've both got so much more to lose now, Tim," DiNozzo said softly. "I just don't want you to forget that. It's about choices, and priorities."

"Believe me, I've thought about it," McGee rasped. "But this is my home, too, my family, where I belong. And right now, all I can think about is how I failed to protect Abby. How this guy slipped right under our noses, in _our house-_ "

"This isn't on you," DiNozzo reassured him.

"We suspected the son, questioned him at the house, but didn't have enough to bring him in."

"Well, there you go. This guy was unhinged, McGee. You find out what made him so desperate?"

"During his autopsy, Palmer found years of abuse – broken bones, fractures, even a punctured lung. Think he finally found the courage to fight back."

"But something's still bother you."

"Yea, Tony – the part where he shoots Abby - an innocent person - and tries to kill Gibbs. Up until three days ago, this guy didn't even have a parking violation on his record – he was clean."

"Well, people do desperate things not to get caught. Wouldn't be the first time. Just look at your serial killer pal."

" _Pal?_ He's not my pal," McGee replied defensively.

"Way I hear it, he offered to be godfather to your twins," DiNozzo said in a teasing tone. "Can't believe I'm playing second fiddle to a psychopath."

McGee rolled his eyes, grabbing his coat. "C'mon, let's get out of here. You wanna grab some coffee or somethin'?

"Rain check, Probie," he replied. "Just wanted to see how you were holdin' up. Gotta get to Georgetown to see Abby. I just can't imagine her..." DiNozzo drifted off, his eyes narrowing. McGee put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're back," McGee said.

DiNozzo nodded in appreciation, walking with McGee to the elevator. "Not lookin' forward to seein' the boss," he sighed, pressing the down button.

"Why? Bet he'd be happy to see you – maybe take his mind off some things."

DiNozzo gave a sour laugh. "Oh, I don't think so. I don't think he'd want to hear what I have to say."

"Tony, you're not gonna lay into him on this, are you? It's not his fault either."'

"It's not about this. It's about family. He turned his back."

"I can tell you when he saw her, when she was lying there, Gibbs was … he was devastated, Tony. Whatever happened, I think he owned up to it."

"I saw the tape, McGee," DiNozzo sighed. McGee gave him a look. "Bishop showed me. Still doesn't erase the months of heartache he caused."

McGee stared at the corner, fighting between his love for Abby and his loyalty to his boss. "I know," he finally replied in a whisper. "But Gibbs had to have a reason. He always does."

"May have his reasons, but Rule 51, Probie – sometimes the mighty Gibbs is wrong."

"And you think making him feel even worse than he already does is going to help?"

"Look, I know I owe Gibbs…he may've knocked me on the head one too many times but he taught me a lot, taught me how to be a man more than my father ever did. I'm not lookin' to hurt the guy, but he can be ice cold sometimes, and it stings."

"When's the last time you talked to him?" McGee asked, stepping out of the elevator with him as the doors opened to the parking garage.

"His basement, almost two years ago," Tony said flatly, pulling out his keys. McGee looked at him, shocked. "C'mon, McGee, you know he's not much of a talker to begin with. He did send me a Christmas card, nice little note inside. But I get the feeling he doesn't want much to do with me or Tali."

"Tony, I don't believe that – he cares. Last time I showed him a picture of the twins, his face lit up like I've never seen."

"That's with _you_ , Tim. I think maybe Tali, and me, we're both painful reminders that he'd rather not have around."

"Reminders of Ziva, you mean," McGee replied, seeing DiNozzo's face fall at the mention of her name. "She was like a daughter to him."

"So is Abby," DiNozzo huffed, shaking his head. "God, she really needs to pull through."

"For Gibbs?"

"No, not just for Gibbs – for the rest of us."

McGee looked down as DiNozzo opened the door to his rental car. "Look, Tony, don't do anything-"

"Don't worry, McGee. I'll be on my best behavior. Abby wouldn't want it any other way. And besides, it's not about him, it's about Abby. Maybe all she needs is a bit of the DiNozzo charm to get her out of this."

"That'd be a real miracle," McGee said with a smirk, which faded almost as soon as it appeared. He looked up at DiNozzo, tears stinging his eyes. "We're not gonna lose her…I don't think I could…"

"We'll get her back," DiNozzo replied strongly, gripping McGee's shoulder. "She's tough."

The ringing of McGee's cell phone interrupted whatever else the two men were about to share. A worried look crossed McGee face as he picked up.

"Hey, Kyle, everything OK?" McGee asked. DiNozzo's eyes widened as he realized it was Abby's brother on the other end. Both men held their breath, awaiting Kyle's response.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	8. Chapter 8-Points of View

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 8: Points of View**

 **Author's Notes: For whatever reason, my muse is enjoying these random pairings and interactions...patience is a virtue, though I never intended the story to run this long! Things will be moving forward soon!**

 **Georgetown University Hospital**

It was late in the night, later than any visitors should've been allowed in the hospital. Yet the chair next to Abby's bed never stayed empty more than a minute or two a day. The hospital staff knew her well – she was always coming down to donate blood or visit a friend, or even a stranger. She'd bring cookies in the shape of skulls for Halloween, make kids laugh with a few "magic tricks" from her science kit and lift the spirits of everyone on a regular basis just by being Abby. The time she almost donated a kidney got everyone's attention – the staff admired her willingness to give such a big part of herself to a complete stranger. She was a breath of fresh air in an otherwise often stark and cynical world.

The staff made sure Abby was taken care of, placing her in a private room in ICU. Get well cards lined the walls. The flowers that were sent to her in the days that followed became so overwhelming that her family encouraged the hospital workers to take them home.

On this particular night, Luca Sciuto was keeping watch. The light was on dimly, just enough so that he could continue reading the book he'd brought. But it wasn't for him – it was for Abby.

"Atticus sat down in the swing and crossed his legs. His fingers wandered to his watchpocket; he said that was the only way he could think," Luca read out loud, continuing a chapter from one of Abby's favorite books, _To Kill A Mockingbird_ by Harper Lee. Remembering how Abby had always said Atticus reminded her of their father, Luca thought the book might rouse her spirits. He teared up at the thought of his parents – both long gone – and prayed he wouldn't have to bury his sister too.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Luca adjusted his glasses, turning a page. He took a moment to glance up at his sister, who'd been in the same state for the last three days. He looked for a sign – a twitch of a finger, the flutter of an eyelid. But there was nothing. The coma still had its grip on her. He sighed, turning back to the book.

"'First of all,' Atticus said, 'if you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you'll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view-until you climb into his skin and walk around in it-'"

"Truer words may never have been spoken," a voice commented from the doorway.

Luca looked up to see Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard walking toward him. He gave the older man a small smile, standing up to shake his hand.

"Don't get up on my account," Ducky insisted, studying the cover of his book. "Ah, a true classic. I can only hope my memoirs will convey a fraction of the depth of meaning hidden in this masterpiece."

"One of Abby's favorites," Luca explained. "Thought it might help."

"Has it?"

Luca shrugged sadly. "I think she can hear me, Dr. Mallard, I truly believe that. But … I just wish she'd give us a sign, something to tell us she's still here."

"My dear boy," Ducky replied, placing a hand on his shoulder, "sometimes patience is all that is required in these situations. It's not uncommon for someone in Abigail's condition to … take leave for a spell. Her body needs rest to recover, and perhaps this is the only way in which it can mend."

"Thanks, doc, but it's getting more complicated by the hour," Luca rasped.

"Something troubling you?"

"One of the doctors came in today, reminded me that Abby is an organ donor."

Ducky seemed taken aback. "I dare say it's a bit early for that conversation," he replied sharply, glancing toward the nurse's desk and wondering who had the audacity to make that statement.

"That's what I said, and he didn't push, but I think she might be a match for someone."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Ducky encouraged. "Whoever he was, he had no right to pressure you in that way. It's only been three days. She's strong. There's no reason to think she won't come out of this episode."

Luca nodded, still unsettled. Getting up, he bookmarked the page and set the novel on the nightstand. "Here, doctor, why don't you sit with her for awhile. Abby always said you had an endless supply of stories to tell, and she enjoyed every one of them. Maybe that will help bring her out of this."

"One never knows, young man. As a matter of fact, I can recall a time when I was studying a case at Edingburgh…"

"Thanks doc," Luca smiled, giving him the chair and beginning to walk out. "I think I need some coffee. Do you want some?"

"No, no, I was just having a cup with Jethro before I came here," Ducky replied, a hesitancy in his voice. He could see Luca tense up at the mention of Gibbs' name. "Have you spoken to him since-"

"No," Luca responded in a clipped tone. "And I don't care to."

"Well, you simply can't avoid him forever," Ducky countered.

"Dr. Mallard," Luca sighed, "I'd consider myself a pretty positive person, positive to the point where my sister constantly worries about people taking advantage of me."

"I do vaguely recall her expressing some concern in that area," Ducky acknowledged.

"Even with everything we've been through – losing our parents, her moving away, other family drama – I always was the upbeat one, the 'Pollyanna.' But right now, seeing her lying there, and knowing what I know…I simply can't look that man in the face without wanting to deck him."

Ducky arched an eyebrow. "This wasn't his fault," Ducky contended.

"No, and I know he tried to save her. It's not that. It's…well, you were there. You had to have seen the change between them."

"Sadly, as of late, I haven't been as present to Abigail or anyone at the agency, and while I am aware of what you're acknowledging … this…distance between your sister and Jethro is in the past. He's here, now. He hasn't left this hospital in three days."

"He hurt her," Luca rasped, tears in his eyes. Ducky could see it was more from empathy than anger.

"And I am not discounting that," Ducky sighed, "but it will do none of us any good to hold onto past mistakes. Perhaps you could follow the advice of the gentleman in your book."

Luca gave him a perplexed look. Ducky continued, "Take a minute to consider things from _his_ point of view. And the only real way to do that, my dear boy, is to get it from the source."

Swallowing, Luca nodded, his gaze fixed on his sister. "Abby always said you were the wisest person she ever knew. She was so excited for your book…"

It was Ducky's turn to tear up. "Abigail … is a very special young woman. And I am a better man for knowing her … her brilliance, her enthusiasm for life, her unwillingness to give up, even against all odds."

"I know I'm leaving her in good hands, doctor," Luca smiled, patting him on the back and guiding him to the chair. "I'll, um…I'll go get that cup of coffee now."

"You know you'll likely run into Jethro," Ducky warned.

"I know … think it's about time we had a chat."

Ducky nodded, watching Luca disappear down the hall. As he settled into the chair, he pulled out his own manuscript from the leather bag he'd been carrying. Opening to the first page, he looked at Abby.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I hope you don't mind that I brought my own stories to read."

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	9. Chapter 9-Haunted

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 9: Haunted**

 _ **Author's Note: This chapter is a bit lengthy, but I wanted to explore how Gibbs and Abby got to where they were before the shooting. Also wanted to bring in some more familiar faces**_ _ **Enjoy! Feedback is appreciated!**_

 **Georgetown University Hospital**

Cleaning up in a private restroom built for one, Gibbs splashed some water on his face, chancing a glance at his reflection in the mirror. He looked worn out, standing in his boxers and an old T-Shirt, his form looking much frailer than he remembered.

McGee had brought him the spare clothes he usually left at NCIS. The nurses had been nice enough to let him shower in one of the staff rooms – not so much because of his badge, but because they knew how much he meant to Abby. She was a staple at the hospital and had become close with many of the workers there. Gibbs could barely stand the sympathetic looks they would give him when he crossed them in the halls.

"Jesus," Gibbs whispered, shaking his head and throwing another handful of water on his face, which was getting scruffy.

" _Aw, you shaved your moustache – I liked you with a little hair on your face!"_

Gibbs' heart lurched at the sudden memory of Abby's quirky comment from more than 10 years ago. He had recently returned from Mexico and finally decided to go clean-shaven again.

" _Still got my eyebrows,"_ he had replied with a smirk, and she'd laughed. It had been too long since he heard that laugh and, three days into this nightmare, wondered when, or if, he would ever hear it again.

Feeling frustrated by the memory, Gibbs dragged his hand over the stubble, wishing he had his dad's old portable razor with him. Maybe he'd ask Jack to get it whenever she came by next – she would know where to look. He'd shown her, opened up to her in a way he rarely did to anyone. And he'd chickened out in the moment – pulling away before something more intimate happened.

"What the hell are you thinkin' 'bout that for, Probie?"

Gibbs looked up to see Mike Franks – or at least his vision of him – reflected in the mirror, still dressed in the same shirt, pants and jacket that he died in seven years ago. This couldn't be a good sign, Gibbs thought.

"I'm old, Mike. Not dead," he replied flatly, drying his face with a paper towel.

"Just tryin' to distract yourself, if you're bein' honest," Franks challenged. "Tryin' to get your mind off that dear, sweet girl clingin' to life down the hall."

Refusing to look at him, Gibbs frowned, quickly pulling on his jeans and red hoodie.

"Maybe that's what all this has been about – distraction," Franks continued. "You could never face her, not about what happened in Paraguay, and not now."

"What do you want me to say, Mike?" Gibbs asked bitingly. "That I was wrong? That I – I just should've spilled my guts to her eight months ago? That she wasn't the only one who's been hurtin'?"

"Just want you to be honest with yourself. It'll make it easier."

"Make what, easier, Mike? Why are you here?" Gibbs asked, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face the ghost of his mentor.

"Let's just say I'm here in case she needs a friendly face … if she decides she's ready to move on."

Gibbs tensed, swallowing. "You can't have her, Mike. Not yet. She's not … I'm not ready-"

"Ain't about what you want, Probie; it's about what Abby wants. What she needs. What she can live with. You know what she did – what she did for _you_ , savin' your sorry ass when that lunatic knocked you on it."

"I didn't ask her to," Gibbs spat, grabbing his old clothes and throwing them in a duffel bag.

"Sure you did - you made her care for you over all these years," Franks countered. "The Caf-Pows, the pecks on the cheek…takin' her out for her birthday like she was your own. Little late to go back now, isn't it?"

Sighing heavily, Gibbs threw down the duffel bag, leaning against the sink. "Tried to … didn't work."

"Sure as shit didn't," Franks growled, moving in close as if he was getting ready to head-slap him; yet he refrained. "I mean, what the hell is wrong with you, Jethro? She loves you, probably loves you more than anyone else on this earth does."

"You know so much," Gibbs rasped, a tinge of resentment in his voice, "then you also know it wasn't just her who got hurt."

"Oh, whoa as you!" Franks spat. "The sad song of Leroy Jethro Gibbs never does seem to come to an end, does it? Always about you, your problems, your hurt."

"That's not true, Mike, and it's not fair," Gibbs replied, his voice trembling like a teenager.

"Why don't you ease up there, Mr. Franks," a voice called. Gibbs turned to his right to see his father – Jackson Gibbs - suddenly standing in the corner. Shaking his head, Gibbs wondered if he was having his own near-death experience, or maybe a mental breakdown.

"Your boy needs to be put in his place," Franks said to the older man, who walked forward with a cane, his silver hair and wrinkled features only serving to accentuate the kindness in his bright blue eyes.

"I know what Leroy needs," Jackson countered, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "Let me be with him a bit. He's been through a lot, deserves a break."

Franks shrugged, turning away as Jackson stepped in front of Gibbs. He looked at his father, tears in his eyes. When he glanced back to where Franks stood, his mentor was already gone.

"Son, you look like hell," Jackson said with a sad laugh, causing Gibbs to smile through his tears.

"Dad," he whispered, shaking his head and looking down. He began to finger the bracelet on his wrist – his father's name engraved in the silver. "Dad, I don't … Lately, I really missed…I missed you…"

"It's OK, Leroy, I'm here," he whispered, pulling his son in for a hug. Gibbs squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to let go of the vision, of the feeling of his father's strong arms around him. He wished he'd allowed himself these moments more when his father was alive.

"It's not your fault, son," Jackson reassured him. "And it's gonna be alright."

"How dad?" Gibbs asked, eyes wide as he pulled away from the embrace.

"Well, Abby there is a stubborn one, full of love and life. I think she's got a good chance, if she has a reason."

"Reason for what?"

"Reason to stay, son," he said matter-of-factly. "Now you know how I raised you, me and your mom. You said some awful things to that girl, and she said some unkind words in return, to be sure. But she needs to know that there's a reason."

"I can't be her reason," Gibbs said, frustrated.

"No, you're not her reason, son. But you got to show her the reason."

"Why me?" Gibbs wondered.

"Jethro, why'd you put that silver around your wrist when you got back from Paraguay?"

"I…I wanted to feel close to you. I was … struggling. It made me feel…stronger."

"And now Abby is going through her own struggle," Jackson replied. "And she needs to feel close to her father right now."

"I'm not her father," Gibbs replied sadly.

"You're the closest thing she's got to one on this earth. She needs you right now."

"I've been with her, dad, you know that," he said in a strained voice. "Christ, I even sung to her. What else do you want me to do?"

"You need to accept what happened eight months ago, and forgive it," Jackson said simply.

"Just like that."

"Yes."

"But it's not-"

"Alright, son, you forced my hand. We're gonna go back and look at this. See what it is, so we can get to where we need to be."

"Dad, what-"

In a flash, Gibbs turned to find himself standing in his basement, his father still at his side. They were in the corner as he heard footfalls coming down the stairs. It was Gibbs – he was watching himself from eight months ago.

"Why are you doing this," Gibbs whispered to his father, who was standing with his arms crossed.

"Just be patient, Leroy. Didn't they teach you that in basic training?"

"Dad I-"

Gibbs was rendered speechless as he watched himself, still scruffy and covered in bruises and scars from the torture he endured in Paraguay. He was uncovering the boat, picking up exactly where he left off. His features were dark and serious as he began his work.

"If this is you when you're happy, I'd hate to see you when you're mad," Jackson half-joked, shooting him a look.

"What the hell did you expect? I was tortured! I-"

"Shhhh," Jackson whispered as they both heard the front door close and heavy footsteps made their way down to the basement.

"Dad, I can't-"

"Just listen, son."

Gibbs looked up to see Abby coming down the stairs, and watched his own face fall as he slammed a sander on the table in frustration, trying to hide the trembling in his hand. Abby jumped at the noise.

"Hey, Gibbs," she said in a small voice. Gibbs had his back to her and refused to turn around.

"Said I'd call if I needed anything, Abbs," he said flatly, reaching for another tool, distracting himself.

"Well, I brought some home-made gumbo, Aunt Gert's recipe that you always liked," she said quietly. "Left it on the stove for you."

The battered Gibbs nodded silently. He was dreading this meeting – for some reason, the thought of her made him feel like he was being smothered, as if it was too much love and affection – more than he could take at the moment.

"I, um, I know you've only been home for a week," Abby continued, "but … but I hadn't heard from you since that quick phone call at McGee's place, and I … I just really wanted to see you." He could hear the trembling in her voice.

"I know, Abbs," he whispered. "It's just-"

Gibbs was cut off as Abby ran toward him and embraced him fiercely. He shut his eyes, almost losing his breath. He felt trapped, and the pain in his bones grew sharp.

"Oh, Gibbs," she cried, and he could feel her tears on his neck. "I didn't know what to do. Thought I'd never see you again."

"It's OK," he whispered, patting her on the back, trying to encourage her to let go. He didn't have the strength to comfort her. She leaned back, getting a good look at him for the first time, and gasped.

"Oh my God, Gibbs!" she cried, lightly touching the gash on his forehead, cupping his cheek. It felt awkwardly intimate to him, and he squirmed away.

As Gibbs and Jackson watched the scene unfold, Gibbs noticed things he missed the first time around - Abby's disheveled appearance - she looked worn out; the depth of love in her eyes as she saw him for the first time. Watching himself pull away from her touch, he wished he'd stayed there, in that moment, and truly seen her.

"I'm fine," Gibbs said to Abby weakly. Placing her hands on her hips, she gave him a look of disbelief.

"C'mon, Gibbs, can you stop with the John Wayne act, just this once? It's me. And I nearly went mad missing you these past two months, trying to find you with our hands tied behind our backs. Can you just be honest?"

"Let's go upstairs," he said flatly, leading the way as Abby followed like a lost puppy.

Gibbs and Jackson suddenly found themselves standing by the fireplace, watching Abby sit cautiously on the couch next to the weatherworn Gibbs. They'd just finished sharing some of the gumbo Abby brought, but little else. They had eaten in silence, and now that the dishes were cleaned and the leftovers refrigerated, there was an awkward pause between the two.

"Was the gumbo that bad?" Abby half-joked, desperate to connect with him.

"Nah, it was some of your best," he replied, giving her a small smile that disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Gibbs…we need to talk. _I_ need to talk. You almost _died_ , and … and…"

Abby broke down, leaning into his chest, hugging herself tightly. Gibbs wanted to feel anything but what he was feeling in that moment – trapped and uncomfortable. And he didn't know why. He forced himself to put an arm around her and just let her sob. He remained distant, almost stoic, a confused look on his face as she cried herself to sleep against him.

By the fireplace, present-day Gibbs had a much different reaction. Tears stung his eyes and he swallowed hard, knowing he let her down that night.

"Shellshock can do that to man," Jackson sighed, trying to reassure him. "That's not where you went wrong, son."

"I know," Gibbs replied in a low voice as the scene before them seemed to jump in time. Looking at the clock, Gibbs noticed it was 3AM. This was where he made his mistake, tired and worn out in the middle of the night.

Abby and Gibbs had both fallen asleep on the couch. Gibbs stirred, jolted awake by a bad dream. His sudden motion had woken Abby, who wiped her eyes, dark with maskara that had run down her face.

"Gibbs?" she called in a hoarse voice as he stood up quickly.

"You should go," he said. "It's three in the morning."

"What?" she asked, confused, still half-asleep.

"You need to go home," he said sternly, still bothered by the nightmare.

Abby narrowed her gaze, beginning to comprehend his words. "I am home," she replied strongly. "This has been my home for the last two months. I looked after it. Slept in it. Cried in it. And now you want me to go?"

"You need to," Gibbs rasped, unwilling to look her in the eye.

"What is it?" she asked softly, getting off the couch and placing a hand on his shoulder. "A nightmare?"

"I'm fine," he replied, pulling away sharply.

"I just want to help, just let me-"

"You can't help me!" Gibbs yelled, throwing up his hands. "OK, you can't. Now just go."

"What the hell is wrong with you, Gibbs?!" she suddenly shouted, going toe-to-toe with him. Gibbs looked up and gave her his patented Gibbs stare, the one that told her to back off, to give him space. But she refused.

"Don't do this to me, Gibbs … don't shut me out."

"Go live your life," he whispered, still staring at her harshly. "Go home to Burt. And stop worrying about me."

Abby laughed half-heartedly, rolling her eyes. "Burt…Burt's gone. We broke up last month."

Gibbs gave her an exasperated look. "And you're askin' what's wrong with me," he huffed, shaking his head.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Means Burt was a good guy, good for you."

"Oh, like I'm gonna take dating advice from the man who has three ex-wives," Abby spat.

"You're just makin' it harder on yourself. You should be with a guy like Burt instead of here with me at three in the morning."

"I choose to be here because we're _family_ , because I _love_ you," she responded urgently. "When you were gone … I couldn't think straight. All I could think about was what you were going through, whether you were dead or alive … and now to get you back..."

"Not about me, Abby," he replied, shaking his head. "Not gonna be here forever. We got lucky out there."

"You take too many damn chances," she growled, her anger returning. "I mean, seriously, what did you think you were gonna accomplish by jumping off that helicopter, except getting yourself killed!"

Gibbs' own anger returned as he raised his voice. "I was doing my job! I was saving those boys!"

"Really? And I bet you didn't think for one second about how McGee would follow your lead. You didn't just almost get yourself killed – you almost got McGee killed – you almost widowed Delilah, almost stole their child's chance of having a father!"

"I didn't tell him to get off that damn helicopter!" Gibbs barked.

"No, but you may as well have! You always train your agents to have each others' backs – no one left behind. What did you think he'd do? Abandon you? Leave you to die? Even if that's exactly what you wanted!"

Gibbs was silent, his blue eyes burning with anger. "He knew the risks," Gibbs said through gritted teeth. "It's part of the job. You know it, too."

"Don't ignore what I just said! You tell me flat out, you tell me the truth – you never meant to come home from Paraguay, did you?"

By the fireplace, Gibbs watched the scene unfold with his father, tormented by the exchange, knowing what was to come. "Please dad," he whispered. "No more … I can't watch this."

"She wasn't wrong son," Jackson replied. "You just couldn't admit it."

Gibbs gave his father a silent nod, closing his eyes, willing himself to wake up from this nightmare. Yet he remained. He needed to see it through to the end.

"You didn't even say goodbye before you left," Abby lamented. "You were just gone and then … Tell me, Gibbs," she implored, looking into his battered face. "Tell me the truth."

Gibbs stared at her silently for what felt like an eternity.

"You know Gibbs, all these years, I thought you actually … I thought you cared," she choked out, moving within inches of his face, her voice tense with anger. "But sometimes you make me wonder. Do you know what that's like? To question if someone you love with all your heart actually loves you back?"

"Abby," he replied sharply, his voice strained. "You're overreacting."

"Am I? Tell me, is it like being undercover? You just put on personas, like Leyland Spears? All these years, all this time, the Caf-Pows, the pecks on the cheek – was it all just an act? Another role you played?"

Gibbs' jaw tightened, but he remained quiet. Frustrated, Abby continued her rant.

"You resented Tony because you thought his loyalty waivered when Ziva left. But he's a better man than _you_ Gibbs."

His gaze narrowed as he took a step forward. Gibbs did not want to bring DiNozzo into this fight.

"Tony knew the risks of the job, and _he_ put his _family first_ ," Abby continued angrily, still meeting his silent stare, desperate to get a reaction, any reaction at this point. When he wouldn't budge, she said something she knew she would come to regret. "He's a better _father_ than you."

And there it was – the punch below the belt.

"Get the hell out," he said in a low voice, trying to control his anger. Her face fell, knowing she had crossed a line, immediately wishing she could take back her words. Gibbs knew he had a hand in pushing her across that line with his silence and indifference. Until that moment of weakness, Abby had given him nothing but love and loyalty for 20 years, been patient and understanding, and done her job better than he could've asked. That should have counted for something. But it didn't. Not to Gibbs. Not in that moment.

"Gibbs, I-"

"Get the _hell_ out of _my_ house," he responded coldly.

"God, Gibbs, I didn't mean it like that, please-"

"Get out of my house, and get out of my life."

Abby fell silent at his words, her expression turning dark, the color leaving her face. All things Gibbs failed to notice as he turned his back to her that night, but that he could see now as he stood observing with his own father.

"Know what she said hurt," Jackson whispered. "But that wasn't your best moment, son."

"Yea," Gibbs rasped in agreement, watching as Abby covered her mouth and rushed toward the door. Stopping at the doorway, she leaned against the frame, defeated.

"Maybe it's better this way," she whispered, clutching her chest. Gibbs kept his back to her, but present-day Gibbs' eyes widened when he saw her eyes close in pain. She was trying to be quiet but he could see she was having trouble breathing.

"Jesus," Gibbs whispered, leaving his father to rush towards her, placing a hand on her back. "Abby, Abbs are you OK?" He was lost in the moment, but it was as if he wasn't there at all. She couldn't feel him or hear him. Gibbs looked back to see his old self making his way into the kitchen, ignoring her. He'd been so hurt, so wrapped up in his own pain, that he hadn't noticed.

"Goodbye, Gibbs," she rasped, walking out the door.

"Abby," present-day Gibbs called, following her to her car. She leaned against it for a few moments, checking her pulse. Then she grabbed her purse from the passenger seat, pulling out a prescription.

"Heart condition," Jackson reminded Gibbs.

Gibbs kicked the side of the car, cursing. It hadn't been a good night for either of them. He wondered how they could come back from this.

Gibbs remembered how, in the days and weeks that followed, he had pushed the conversation far from his mind, content that, in the end, it was better for Abby to hate him than to be tangled up in his life. He was trouble, and he wouldn't be around forever. As much as her words stung, he genuinely wanted her to be happy, and if cutting ties with him could push her in that direction, then so be it. He would savor every moment he had left, he would feel happy to be alive, and he would rationalize this terrible night away to nothing more than tough love. Sure, he would miss her, but in the end it would be what was best for her.

Yet now, seeing that night through new eyes, Gibbs knew he was mistaken. He felt more lost than ever.

"Leroy, it's time to go back," Jackson said, putting a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Dad, I don't … I don't know what to do."

"You make it right, son. You both make it right."

With that, Jackson disappeared, and Gibbs was left alone.

Blinking, Gibbs noticed a bright light. Shielding his face, he squinted.

"Jethro! Jethro!" a familiar voice called in the distance.

Pain pounded in his head as he heard that same familiar voice again, getting closer.

"Hurry, get me assistance immediately! Jethro, it's me, it's Ducky. Jethro, can you hear me?"

Ducky's voice was the last thing Gibbs heard before he blacked out.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	10. Chapter 10-Nothing Left Unsaid

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 10: Nothing Left Unsaid**

 _ **Author's Note: This is yet another lengthy chapter, but I wanted to keep the story moving and fill in the blanks with what Abby actually said to Gibbs via sign language after she was shot. Quite a few "Easter Eggs" from past episodes in this one. This will probably only go one or two chapters more. Feedback is appreciated!**_

 **Georgetown University Hospital**

With a start, Gibbs awoke, feeling the cool tiles of the bathroom floor and a strong, well-weathered hand under his head.

"Jethro, are you alright?"

"Duck?" Gibbs replied, shaking his head and sitting up.

"Easy, easy," Ducky responded. "Do you remember what happened?"

Gibbs looked around, confused and dazed as Ducky asked him to follow his finger with his eyes. "I, uh…I'm not sure. How'd you get in here?"

"I came looking for you, and the head nurse said you'd been in here awhile," Ducky explained. "And well, when I knocked and didn't get a response, they opened the door and I found you lying here."

"Must've slipped gettin' dressed, hit my head," Gibbs groaned, trying to stand. He was in his old T-shirt and boxers, one foot in a pant leg, the other bare.

"Not so fast," Ducky cautioned. "Your loss of consciousness could have been for any number of reasons. Let's get you to a room where I can properly examine you."

"Back to Abby," Gibbs insisted, steadying himself as he pulled on his pants.

"Jethro, it's been a long three days … maybe you should get some rest."

"No, I … I need to see her," he replied in a tired voice, grabbing his red hoodie off the floor and pulling it slowly over his head.

Ducky gave him a worried look but agreed. "Can you walk?"

"Fine, Duck. Let's just get to Abby. Is there any change?"

"Unfortunately, none that I can perceive," Ducky explained as they walked down the hall. "But time will tell. Ah, here we are." They turned the corner and entered the room. "Oh! What a wonderful surprise – Antony!"

Gibbs looked up to see his former senior field agent sitting next to Abby, her hippo in his hands.

"Hey, Duck-man!" DiNozzo replied, placing the hippo on the nightstand as he rose to shake his hand. "How's the book coming?"

"Quite well. I'm on chapter 7 and, wouldn't you know, it just so happens that's the chapter on your bought with the pneumonic plague!"

DiNozzo laughed. "Ah, yep, good times, Ducky, good times." He finally looked towards Gibbs, extending his hand. "Boss, er…Jethro."

"Hey, Tony," Gibbs whispered, pulling him in for a hug, much like he did in the basement nearly two years ago.

"How you holdin' up?"

"We're about to find out," Ducky sighed, ushering Gibbs to a second chair in the room. DiNozzo gave them both a confused look as Ducky began taking Gibbs' pulse and examining his head for injuries.

"Everything OK?" DiNozzo asked hesitantly, walking over to the two men. Gibbs shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the younger man's discerning stare.

"Fine, DiNozzo," Gibbs grumbled, wincing as Ducky touched the side of his head.

"Ah, there's the small bump," Ducky declared, running his hand over Gibbs' scalp. "Between the exhaustion and your re-injured knee, I'd venture to guess you lost your footing and gave yourself a good clunk on the cranium. Just be grateful it wasn't a long way down, Jethro."

"God, Duck, will stop makin' a fuss over nothin'?" Gibbs muttered.

"Would you rather I called Dr. Taft and had him hook you up to some machines for a few days?" Ducky snapped back.

"No," Gibbs replied swiftly. The last thing he wanted was to be poked and prodded again. He'd just gotten permission to get into his clothes again – and he wanted to be close to Abby.

DiNozzo gave Gibbs a concerned look. "Too many hits to the head over the years – maybe you should get an MRI just to make sure-"

"How about I give YOU a hit on the head, DiNozzo?" Gibbs snapped back, standing up and facing the younger man. DiNozzo automatically winced, preparing for the head slap.

"Sorry, Boss," he whispered, relieved when the blow didn't come. "Just worried about you. With everything that happened."

"Well stop worrying. I'm fine," he replied, shaking his head.

"OK, if you're sure, but all I'm saying is-"

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs shouted louder than he meant to.

"Boss, it's not gonna do you any good to anyone – not to the team, and not to Abby – if you go down."

"You come back just to mother hen me? The two of you?"

"Jethro," Ducky implored, "you've been through hell. Just take a minute to rest. To make sure everything alright."

"I'm fine!" Gibbs shouted, waving his arms. "No more hospital beds, no more prodding!"

"Gibbs…" a soft voice called.

"God, not you too, Abby," Gibbs said in frustration, forgetting himself in the moment. All three men stopped suddenly, realizing she was awake. Gibbs' eyes widened as he turned to see Abby looking at him with half-open eyes.

"Gibbs…" she whispered again, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Abbs!" Gibbs cried, his voice catching as he rushed over to her side. "Hey…" he said quietly, cupping the side of her face and giving her a big smile.

"You should listen…to them," she said seriously, giving him a concerned look.

"Christ, Abby – you're the one laying in the hospital bed this time. Stop worrying about me."

"Never," she rasped, grasping his hand tightly.

"So sleeping beauty finally awakens," DiNozzo cracked, moving to the other side of the bed with a smile.

"Tony," she replied, smiling broadly as she reached out with her other hand to grab his. "You came all this way?"

"For you? Of course! Knew the old DiNozzo charm would do the trick!"

"Or perhaps just the familiar banter of old friends," Ducky countered, walking around DiNozzo to bend over the bed, giving Abby a light kiss on the forehead.

"Duck-man," Abby said happily, breathing deeply. "I feel like…like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz." Gibbs gave her a confused look, though his smile didn't fade.

"Wait … so which one am I – Tin Man, Lion or Scarecrow?" DiNozzo asked playfully.

"Never mind," she laughed, coughing a bit as she tried to sit up.

"Easy, my dear," Ducky implored, "I'll fetch Dr. Taft. He'll be wanting to know the good news."

"Dr. Taft?" Abby asked, looking up at Gibbs as Ducky left. " _Our_ Dr. Taft?"

"Yep," Gibbs nodded. "How do you feel?"

"Tired … sore … a little loopy…"

"Probably the pain meds," DiNozzo winked, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You've been out for awhile."

"How long?"

"A few days," Gibbs answered. "Gave us a scare."

She signed back to Gibbs and he swallowed, looking down.

"You know, I always hated when you guys did that," DiNozzo said with a nervous laugh, wondering what she had told him. Abby suddenly became very serious, her eyes darkening.

"He's dead, isn't he," Abby rasped, her voice filled with sorrow.

Gibbs knew who she was referring to and frowned. "You did what you had to do, Abby. Not your fault."

"I killed someone, Gibbs," she replied, her voice tight with emotion. "I swore I never, ever would do that…but I did."

"Hey, he had it coming," DiNozzo interjected, grasping her hand.

"You don't understand, neither of you do. You're so used to it. I never … I never wanted this. I'm not …"

Abby trailed off as her vitals began to drop. "Abby, Abbs, don't think about it right now," Gibbs said in a slight panic, stroking her face. She was breathing harder. "Abby, look at me, look at me," he implored. "Just stay with me, Abbs."

At that moment Dr. Taft entered the room, Ducky following closely behind.

"Doc!" DiNozzo called over. "I think she's having trouble breathing."

Dr. Taft remained calm, but all three men could see the look of concern in his eyes.

"Ms. Sciuto, good to see you back with us!" Dr. Taft said as DiNozzo moved, making room for him. "Now, your brother Kyle told me you two were in the middle of a very serious chess match before you came here, one he says he intends to beat you at, so don't think you're getting out of it that easy. Now deep breaths, look at me. I'm just going to check your heart, OK?"

Abby nodded as he pulled out his stethoscope and began listening. "Kyle…Luca…" she gasped, trying to get her breathing under control. Dr. Taft grabbed an oxygen mask and placed it on her, urging her to relax.

"They're here, they're on their way up," he reassured her. "Though I think maybe we should take things slow right now. Nice, deep breaths…there you go…keep it up, Abby. You're doing great."

Gibbs gave Dr. Taft a concerned look, then refocused on Abby. She seemed to be doing better, breathing even and steady.

"Now," Dr. Taft continued, turning toward the men, "let's try to keep the conversations light and short, please, gentlemen. Only two at a time, try not to overwhelm her. She's still recovering."

"Got it," DiNozzo swallowed, tears in his eyes. He'd never seen Abby like this and it frightened him.

"Abby!" Luca cried from the doorway, as Kyle followed close behind.

"Luca! Kyle!" Abby exclaimed, removing the oxygen momentarily as they rushed to meet her. Gibbs stepped aside as Luca and Kyle brushed past him, each taking a turn to hug their sister.

"Easy, easy," Dr. Taft warned, repositioning the mask. "And you, Ms. Sciuto – you leave that on until I say – got it?"

"Yes sir," she said wearily, saluting him.

"It seems you have quite a few gentleman callers," Dr. Taft winked.

"I'll go," Gibbs said quickly, suddenly feeling out of place with her brothers there.

"Yea, me too," DiNozzo said, nodding to Abby's brothers.

"Wait!" Abby called, then turned to her brothers. "Can I … can I talk to Gibbs… alone…just for a minute.

"Abby," Dr. Taft interjected, "no heavy conversations right now, remember?"

"OK … just want to talk to him for a minute. Please?"

Gibbs gave her a worried look as her brothers nodded and moved away. One by one they left the room, DiNozzo looking back with concern. Abby gave him a smile and held up her hand, giving him the "OK." He smiled back and reluctantly left, closing the door behind him.

"What's this about?" he whispered, sitting close to her. She took his hand in hers, looking at him with hesitation.

"Gibbs…I'm sorry," she chocked out through the oxygen mask, tears in her eyes.

"Shhh…Abbs, you heard the doc, you gotta stay calm, get better. And you have nothing to be sorry for. You did the right thing. Hell, you saved my life."

Abby struggled, pushing off the oxygen mask. When Gibbs went to stop her, she signed to him: _I'm fine._ He scowled but she gave him a strong look, signing again: _Said_ _I'm fine. And I can't talk to you with this thing on._

"Fine," Gibbs said reluctantly. "But the minute you start gettin' out of breath, it goes back on," he warned.

 _Thank you_ , she signed, sighing as she moved the mask off her face.

"OK, so before, I wasn't apologizing for … for what I did to that man," she continued. "I was apologizing for what happened between us that night … at your house."

"Ah, water under the bridge," he said gently, trying to brush off her words.

"No… I … when I thought I was going to die, I realized what a fool I'd been. I couldn't let it end like that … let _us_ end like that."

Gibbs remembered their quiet yet desperate exchange as she lay bleeding in her lab three days ago….

 **Flashback – Abby's lab, shortly after the shooting…**

Gibbs limped desperately toward Abby's frail, bleeding form, still sore from his recent fight with the young man she shot.

"Abby," Gibbs said again, more urgently, swallowing hard at the sight of her. "God Abbs, where, where does it hurt?"

She revealing a gunshot wound to the abdomen. Gibbs immediately put pressure on it, cupping her face.

"Broke…broke…" Abby tried to speak but was having trouble.

"Shhh, don't talk," Gibbs said softly. "It's gonna be OK."

Lifting her right hand, she began signing instead. Gibbs' face fell at her words as she signed _: "Broke my most sacred rule."_

"I know ya did, Abbs. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to do that."

She signed to him again. _"Told you, I would do anything for you."_

"Ah, Abbs," he rasped, pulling her close and kissing her on the cheek.

Abby placed her hand on Gibbs' cheek, getting his attention.

"Yea?" he swallowed, unable to stop the tear that escaped.

She signed again and it broke his heart. _"You still love me?"_

"I never stopped," he rasped, his voice cracking. He felt her blood seeping through his fingers and pressed on her wound with both hands. "Just stay with me, OK? I need you to stay with me."

Signing more slowly, she closed her eyes in pain. _"Maybe it's better this way…better if I go."_

"Don't you say that," Gibbs replied, voice thick with emotion.

Abby was struggling for air, her face growing paler as she signed again. _"Are you OK? Saw him hurt you bad."_

Gibbs closed his eyes, fighting back tears. How could she be worried about him right now?

"I'll live … we're both gonna live," he whispered, trying to smile, to reassure her.

She placed her hand on his chest and he looked down.

"Abbs," he rasped, seeing her fingers form a sign he knew all too well – _I love you._ "I … I know that. I know. And I was wrong. I shouldn't have…Abbs, I'm so-"

Abby brought a finger to his lips, silencing him. It reminded him of how he'd done the same to her when he left for Mexico all those years ago. All he wanted to do was hold her.

"It's OK," she gasped, and the hollowness in her voice terrified him. Abby tugged on his shirt and he leaned in close. She began to whisper in his ear.

"You're a good father," she rasped. "Wish I could've been a better daughter."

Her words caused Gibbs to shudder, a sob escaping his lips. Before he could protest, Abby turned her head, Abby placed a tender kiss on his cheek before letting out a long breath. Gibbs felt the strength leave her body as she collapsed back against the doorframe.

"No…"

 **Present Day**

"Gibbs?" Abby called, pulling him from the memory. It had only been a moment when it all flashed before his eyes, but a tear had already escaped down his face, causing Abby to grow more concerned.

"It's OK," he said in a soft voice, reassuring her. "Was just … thinking about what you said back there. And what I was gonna say back if you hadn't gone and passed out on me."

Abby gave a small laugh. "Well, Gibbs, sorry about that. I kinda lost a lot of blood."

"I noticed," he replied sadly, knowing he'd breach the subject of her heart condition when she was feeling better. "Anyway … been wantin' to tell you somethin' for the last three days. Just been sittin' here, gave me a lot of time to think … about a lot of things."

Abby nodded, suppressing her urge to comment on his sudden chattiness.

"Realized I never told you … first day we met, when you gave me that fortune, I was at the end of my rope. On my third divorce, had a bad string of botched cases after being undercover so long … felt like I'd failed at just about everything in life. Only thing I seemed good at was killin' people."

Gibbs sighed, giving her a knowing look – she knew what he'd done, his past mistakes, his present anguish. She knew him better than he knew himself, he thought. He could see Abby was biting her lip to stay quiet, and smirked at the wonder in her eyes as he continued to speak.

"So one day I walk down to the lab, expectin' Doc Ward to greet me with his five-inch-thick glasses and monotone voice, and there you were – all sass and smiles and … just a breath fresh air."

Abby grinned at his words, wondering where he was going with all this.

"Anyway…when you gave me that fortune from your cookie, I took it as a sign."

"A sign for what, Gibbs?" Abby asked, no longer able to maintain her silence.

"A sign that maybe I wasn't the best agent, and definitely an even worse husband … but maybe… maybe I could still be a good father."

Abby was struck by the look in Gibbs' eyes – a mixture of regret and pride, and obvious love. She'd seen it before, when he'd been worried about her safety or noticed she was troubled.

"Told you," she said, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "You _are_ a good father. I'm the one who let you down."

"No," he replied strongly, shaking his head. "You saved me. From myself, from feeling alone. All these years … I should've told ya why I kept that fortune ... what it meant to me … what _you_ mean to me."

"Gibbs," she rasped, teary-eyed, "I'm so sorry about what I said about you not being a good enough father – I didn't mean it. I was just mad because you seemed so … so distant when you got back. Missed you so much I wasn't even thinking that I might've been pushing you too hard and I-"

"Stop," he whispered, placing a finger over her lips. "Yea, I was a bit … shell-shocked, but no excuse for not puttin' you first, for pushing you away. You were the best thing that happened to me since Kelly and I … I took you for granted."

"Gibbs, don't-"

"Not finished," he insisted. "When I thought … when that kid told me you were dead … I knew I failed you. And it hit me – all of it. What I'd done, how I'd ruined things. And that _you were right_." His voice trailed off in a whisper as he emphasized his last words by pointing at her. Wiping a hand across his face, he struggled to control his emotions – something he normally didn't have an issue with. "I didn't give much thought to my life – or McGee – when I got off that helicopter in Paraguay," he said in a low voice, looking down, a sense of shame in his admission. "You were right to be angry."

Abby reached for him, struck by his honesty. "Everything between us," she began, "all the jokes and the banter – even my off-track rambling – I just wanted to make you feel happy again, even a little, to see you smile. I never wanted you to feel like … like this life wasn't worth it. I wanted to give you something worth fighting for, worth living for, even if it was only for 10 minutes a day."

Gibbs smiled and nodded as she continued.

"It always scared me to see the chances you'd take with your life, and I know it's part of the job, but it hurts, and I can't change that," she admitted. "But I have to accept it. I know who you are, who you've always been. Even this 'new and improved' Gibbs – you're still you."

"And what am I, Abbs?" he asked, feeling a little lost in the moment.

"You're a good man," she replied softly, ruffling his hair a bit. "Simple and brave. Tough when you have to be, but kind when it's called for. And you're worth saving, even if it meant I had to break my own rules."

"Well, we can talk about that later," he whispered, leaning over to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "You need to rest. And I think we've gone over that minute."

"So much for light and short conversation," she smiled with a shrug.

"Let me get those brothers of yours in here," Gibbs said, standing up.

"Gibbs," she called as he looked back at her. "Thank you. For understanding."

He shook his head. "Always be there for ya, Abbs. I promise."

"You should go home, get some rest," she encouraged. "You look like hell."

Gibbs laughed out loud, nodding in agreement. "Yea, yea I guess I should. As long as Ducky doesn't keep holdin' me hostage here. You sure you're OK?"

"I'll be fine – plenty of people looking after me. Go take care of yourself. And make sure DiNozzo didn't get lost!"

"I'll find him," Gibbs smiled, "and let the team know you're awake."

"See you tomorrow."

"See ya tomorrow, Abbs."

As Gibbs walked out the door, in the corner of his eye he could see Abby put the oxygen mask back on. She still wasn't out of the woods, but he felt better knowing she was no longer in a coma. He would stay at the hospital another night, just to make sure, because while his head told him that she seemed much better, his gut was giving him a different feeling – that somehow, the other shoe was about to drop.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**

 **NOTES: Did you catch the Easter Eggs? We first learned about the fortune in "Hit & Run" when Gibbs recounted the first day he and Abby met and how she gave him the fortune that read: "Today's new friend is tomorrow's family." Also, Doc Ward was established as Abby's predecessor in the Season 12 episode "Blast from the Past," where we see Abby wearing Doc Ward's thick glasses and old coveralls (it's also the first time we learn about Gibbs' undercover work as Leyland Spears). Also the shout-out to Gibbs' third ex-wife and time undercover – the timeline fits for Abby to begin working at NCIS around the same time Gibbs was divorcing his third ex-wife, Stephanie. Hope you enjoyed all the throwbacks!**


	11. Chapter 11 - Saying Goodbye

**Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: The first in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: Angst, Possible character deaths**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Broken Principles**

 **Chapter 11: Saying Goodbye**

 _ **Author's Note: This is the final chapter. It certainly went on longer than I anticipated but the story took on a life of its own. Still have some more stories I wanted to tell in this series, so needed to wrap this one up. Feedback is much appreciated!**_

 **NCIS Headquarters**

 **Forensics Lab**

 **1 Month after the Shooting**

"What do you got, Abbs?"

The familiar voice and question normally would sooth and excite the forensic scientist, who had just returned to work after a month of recovery. In the past week, she'd been fighting the pain that still crept in from her injuries, as well as her own demons. Frustration was the word of the day, and nothing – not major mass spec, not her computer "babies," and not even her own mind – seemed to be working right.

"Nothing, Gibbs, I have nothing for you," she sighed. He'd brought her a cup of herbal tea – in place of the Caf-Pows, which were "off the menu" now due to her heart condition. Abby pushed the offering back towards Gibbs, knowing she hadn't earned it.

"You can give that to Ducky," she said sadly, moving to sit at her desk. Gibbs noted her tired expression.

"You doin' OK?" he asked hesitantly. She could hear the worry in his voice, though he tried to mask it.

"Yea, of course," she blinked, trying to put on her strong front. But she knew it wasn't working. "I couldn't pull anything from the knife. But maybe Kasie will have something once she gets back from autopsy …"

Kasie Hines, Ducky's book editor who also happened to have a degree and interest in forensic science, had been filling in during Abby's absence, and continued on upon her return. While Abby enjoyed Kasie's company, she felt a step behind in everything she did. She was not used to working with someone, and while she was happy to tag team for awhile, it became apparent that Kasie's fresh approach to forensics – and her excitement over the newness of the job – was far surpassing Abby's own ability to maintain focus and bring her "A" game. In Kasie, Abby saw her younger self – eager, ambitious, energetic. It seemed those things that once defined her had somehow gone into hiding.

"It's OK, we'll figure it out," Gibbs said reassuringly, rubbing her back gently. The intimate gesture caused Abby to break, tearing up as she put her head down on the desk, her arms hiding her face as she began to cry.

"I'm sorry, Gibbs," she said in a muffled voice. "I just can't seem to get anything right anymore."

"Shhhh," he whispered, kissing her on the top of her head. "It'll be OK. Just need time. You've been through a lot. Gonna be some bumps along the way."

"No, Gibbs," she replied strong, lifting her head and wiping away her tears as she turned in her chair to face him. "It's not the same … nothing's the same…"

"I know," he admitted, swallowing. "Felt that way every time I came back after bein' away awhile. It'll come back to ya."

Abby shook her head, standing up abruptly and walking from her desk into the main lab. " _I'm_ not the same," she said sadly, pulling from the main desk the taped picture of her and the dog she had cared for all those years ago – the one she had named "Jethro." Gibbs followed her, looking down at the photograph that evoked some strong memories.

"Change can be good," Gibbs shrugged, trying to give her some hope.

Abby's voice became distant as she contemplated his words. "Yea," she replied softly. "Yea, it can be good. And maybe it's what this place needs … change."

"Abbs-"

"No, Gibbs. Kasie is everything this team needs right now – everything _you_ need. I'm not … I can't …" Abby's voice broke as fresh tears began to roll down her cheeks. Gibbs swallowed hard, looking away for a moment. He knew he was losing her, and he wasn't sure how to stop it, or if he even should.

"Just tell me, Abbs, tell me what it is."

"You can't fix it this time," she rasped, sniffling. "Some times things break for good."

"You're not broken," he replied strongly.

"I'm not right," she admitted, turning away from him.

"You still seein' Doctor Cranston?" Gibbs asked. Abby had decided to begin therapy sessions with Dr. Rachel Cranston – Kate Todd's sister – following the shooting incident.

"Yea, Gibbs, I'm tryin'," she replied in frustration. "But I keep hittin' this wall. I just can't get past what happened here … what I've done. I don't think I ever will."

"What did the doc say?"

"That maybe it's not healthy for me to be spending most of my waking hours in the place where my trauma originated," Abby said, half-laughing.

"But she signed off on you comin' back."

"Begrudgingly," Abby sighed. "Said it would be a good trial period. I think I'm starting to see the verdict … it's just … this lab, you, the team … this has been my home for so long."

Abby crossed her arms and bit her lip, her back to Gibbs as she fought her tears. He moved behind her but respected her space as she continued.

"Even after all we've been through – the bombing, losing so much of our family … Kate and Director Shepard … Dorney … Mike … and Ziva … Even after all that, I never felt the way I do now."

"And how's that," he rasped, his voice hesitant.

"Like a failure," she choked out.

"Abby, you're not-"

"I killed someone," she said flatly. "And I hate myself for it. That I couldn't find another way … that I let it get so far … that I didn't see it coming…"

"Abbs, I'm sorry," Gibbs sighed, moving to face her.

"Hey, Rule 6," Abby countered, holding up her hand. "And this is not your fault."

"You did it for me. It's on me."

"No, Gibbs, it was _my_ decision. I could've injured him, shot him in the arm or the leg … but in that moment, when I saw him lunging for you with the knife in his hand … I decided to not give him a chance to get to you. And yes, I did it to save you…but that's not on you, Gibbs, it's _not_. Not your burden to carry."

"Never wanted this for you, Abbs," he said regretfully. "Knew the cost … knew it'd be too high …"

"No," she countered. "The cost of losing _you_ would've been too high. I knew I couldn't live with that … so I thought I could live with _this_. And I can … just maybe not at NCIS anymore."

Gibbs closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, as if he'd been punched in the gut. "I know," he rasped, letting out the breath he'd taken.

"Gibbs I … I never meant to let you down … this is the last thing I wanted."

Shaking his head, Gibbs turned back to Abby, pulling her into his chest tightly. "Haven't let me down," he whispered in her ear. "Gotta do what's best for you, Abbs. Gotta take of yourself."

Abby could only nod silently as she cried into his shoulder. After a few minutes she pulled back, staring into his eyes with an intensity that made them both feel almost uncomfortable.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" Gibbs asked, his voice tight with emotion.

"Did you know prolonged eye contact can create neural synchronization?" she stated simply, holding his gaze. Gibbs grinned at her scientific statement, unsure of where she was going. "I just … I need you to understand …"

"I do, Abbs," he replied softly. "I do."

Satisfied, she looked down, taking a deep breath. "I'll, um… I'll finish up this case and then talk to the director…"

"Abbs … think maybe you should talk to him now."

"But Gibbs, I want to finish-"

"You're pale," he noted, flashing her a worried look.

"Might've overdone it a bit these past few days," she admitted. "But I'm OK – I can-"

"Your heart," he interrupted, holding up a finger and signing his words. They hadn't spoken about her arrhythmia – or the fact that she'd kept it hidden from him for months. "This job … it's not worth your life. Much as I'm gonna miss ya around here, you're better off in a line of work that won't cause such a strain."

Abby closed her eyes in frustration. "I know," she whispered reluctantly.

"Abbs," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You're my heart. Always gonna be, no matter where you go, what you do. So you gotta keep it beatin', 'cause I can't…I won't lose you. I _won't_."

Gibbs leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before turning her around to remove her lab coat one last time. Abby gave into his request, both comforted and frightened by his words. As much as she didn't want Gibbs to go first in death, she couldn't bare to cause him the pain of losing another daughter. In the past month, he'd taken her into his home, helped her recover, and wiped away any fears she had that his affections were only an act. She'd slept in Kelly's old room, and he'd nursed her back to health, holding her when the pain was too much to bear. She'd done the same for him after he was shot in Iraq, but being on the receiving end gave her a steady reassurance that he loved her for who she was – faults and all – and not just for what she did for him.

"Always wanted to work with animals," she offered as she watched Gibbs hang up her lab coat. "Maybe Kyle and I could open our own pet store … or maybe I could go back to school to be vet. Bet Ducky would help."

Gibbs smiled, walking back to her. "No rush, Abbs," he replied.

"Guess this is goodbye," she sighed, looking around her lab.

"Can always visit," Gibbs offered, trying to ease the finality of the moment.

"No," Abby rasped, "think it might be too painful. At least to come down here … Gibbs, you go on up to the bullpen … I'll be there in a bit to tell everyone. Just wanna be alone in my lab one last time. OK?"

Gibbs nodded, kissing her forehead. "Good work, Abbs," he whispered, turning quickly to head toward the elevator, trying not to think about the hole she would leave at NCIS and in his daily life.

Abby walked around her lab, gathering her photos and personal effects, gently caressing the keyboards and machinery that had served her so well over the years. Memories flooded her mind: her and McGee hacking and teasing and joking around; Tony using Bert the Hippo as pillow; Kate giving her dating advice and a shoulder rub; Ziva coming back after being rescued from Somalia; Bishop and Torres bantering as they asked for results; Reeves confessing that he was indeed a "friend of Bill's"; Sloan convincing her she wasn't sent to analyze her; and the countless times Gibbs brought her Caf-Pows and pecks on the cheek.

"OK, so I know what you all must be thinking," she began, addressing the inanimate objects in the room. "But I'm not abandoning you. You're in good hands, and I know you've enjoyed Kasie's company as much as I have. So behave, be good to her, and to Gibbs and the team." She walked over to major mass spec, patting the machine gently. "Just keep going … you have to."

Taking her box of belongings, and tucking Bert under arm, Abby looked back a final time and turned out the light. "Goodbye, my fancy," she whispered, referencing one of her favorite poems from the Walt Whitman book "Leaves of Grass."

She made her way to the elevator and, as it opened, gasped in surprise to see the entire team piled in – Kasie, Reeves and Sloan stood towards the back, smiling gently, while Ducky, McGee and Palmer were in the front, fighting back tears. Bishop and Torres were tucked in the corner – standing a bit closer than necessary, Abby noted, chuckling to herself – with Torres holding the elevator door as Bishop gave her a soft, sad look.

"Guess I'll have to wait for the next one," she joked, looking down and sniffling.

"Nah, think they got room for one more," a voice called behind her, and she looked back in surprise. It was Gibbs. He'd snuck up on her one final time. Vance stood next to him, nodding.

"Ms. Sciuto," Vance said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'd be happy to have that cup of tea with you, when you're ready."

"You all knew?" she asked, feeling overwhelmed by everyone's presence.

"Had a hunch," McGee rasped, his eyes sad but hopeful. "Want what's best for you, Abby. We all do."

"And I promise to take good care of all your babies," Kasie chimed in with a smile.

"You guys," Abby choked out, fighting back tears.

"C'mon on in," McGee whispered, opening his arms to her. She walked into the elevator, into the embrace of her family as they grouped around her to say goodbye.

"Best group hug ever," she murmured into the crowded space as they all chuckled. Gibbs and Vance remained outside, watching as each said their goodbyes and walked out of the elevator until she was standing alone.

"Going up?" Gibbs asked, entering the elevator with Vance.

"Yea," she whispered, wiping away her tears. "Think I'll take you up on that tea now, Leon," she smiled.

As the elevator doors closed, Abby took a last glance at the family she loved so dearly, and the place she'd called home for so long. Gibbs put an arm around her, pulling her close.

"Everything's gonna be OK," he whispered. "I promise."

Vance nodded, looking forward. "You'll always have a family here," he said.

And she knew no matter what the future held, that she would find a way to be OK, find a way to come to grips with what had happened, who she was, and who she would become. It might mean some pain, some loss, but it also meant some new possibilities and new beginnings – maybe to grow, to learn, to experience things she always dreamt of - the Galápagos Islands, Dollywood, and Israel were all on her list. And Paris. She had to get to Paris to see Tony. She knew he and Gibbs still had some mending to do, but had taken the first steps while visiting her in the hospital. If any good had come out of that incident, it was that DiNozzo and Gibbs seemed to be patching things up, coming to an understanding.

"Hey, Abbs?" Gibbs asked as the elevator doors opened. "You're awfully quiet."

"Yea, just thinkin'," she replied, stepping out of the elevator with them.

"You're always thinkin'," he smirked back. "Sure you're OK?"

"No," she replied honestly. "But think I will be."

 **The End**

 **Author's notes: Wanted to end this one on a nicer, more hopeful note. Hopefully Abby's reasons for leaving were believable. I have some darker ideas coming up for this series, so thank you for hanging in there til the end of this first "one-shot" that turned into 11 chapters! Feedback is much appreciated!**


End file.
